


Reconciliation

by swampslip



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Coming Out, Cunnilingus, First Kiss, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Love Confessions, Marking, Mildly Possessive Behavior, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pre-Canon, Riding, Tender Sex, Vaginal Fingering, john is not jack's sperm donor lol, non-binary john marston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29848476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampslip/pseuds/swampslip
Summary: “... No, actually,” Arthur whispers hoarsely, “I just like you.John. S’why I asked when you told me, if you… If you were still my Johnny.”“...YourJohnny?”Arthur sighs quietly and glances around for a moment then quirks his mouth to the side.“Most of the reasons I’ve been mad at you… I’ve been… I kept wishin’ I fit in to what I thought you had,'' Arthur stumbles through the explanation, trying to not admit outright that he was jealous, “Wanted to be you, with a woman and a kid, wanted what I thought you threw away… Wanted you.”“Oh,” John chokes out, stepping back to settle his hands on the wagon and hold himself upright.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> john comes out as enby by letting arthur feel his crotch through his pants during an argument about jack's parentage  
> there's a brief reference to john's first time being not great and also when he was underage, it's not expanded upon but it does influence arthur doing more consent checking  
> cunt, nub, hole, slit, chest are used for john 
> 
> sorry i haven't been posting as much bad mental health bad physical health and I'm going back to school which i never thought i was gonna do and consequently never prepared for so this is fun  
> also sorry for not answering comments there's like 75 in my inbox and i try to answer nearly everything but honestly im gonna stop replying to any comment that's just asking for another chapter or more or just emojis or like one word comments thanks

Maybe John's two shots past tipsy. 

Maybe Arthur's not far behind.

And _maybe_ , John's being handsy, sitting next to Arthur, leaning against the older man, grabbing at his arm and thigh to emphasize. 

Arthur's just sober enough to notice the tone of it all. 

The way John's fingertips are brushing the inseam of his pants. 

The way the younger's looking at him hungrily.

Arthur sips on his beer silently, curious how far John will take this out in the open. 

They're hidden by the table but it's not foolproof, Javier, Lenny, Sean, and Karen all sitting around the same table. 

John's constantly moving when he's wasted, leaning forward to speak then back to laugh or scoff at any response. 

His hand slides higher on Arthur's thigh when he leans back and it's making it harder to focus on the conversation. 

So Arthur moves his free hand and grabs John's, slowly, subtly moving it off. 

John turns to look at him as Lenny and Sean start arguing over something. 

John looks hurt.

Blinking at him with those dark puppy-dog eyes then pulling his hands back to his lap. 

It changes his mood instantly and Arthur feels a little bad for it, the way John stops laughing so readily, just sitting quietly and fidgeting with his fingers, head a little bowed. 

Arthur's sure it's just cause he's drunk that he's pouting like this, but if John wasn't drunk he wouldn't have been copping a feel in the first place. 

John rubs his face and says something about turning in and is met with jeers or goodnight wishes from everyone but Arthur. 

Who waits, long enough it won't seem suspicious when he excuses himself as well and follows John to the younger's tent, ducking inside. 

John's laying on his cot, lifts his head when Arthur comes in. 

Slowly sits up. 

His shoulders tight, frame small. 

Anticipatory. 

"What was that about?"

"... I'm sorry,” John whispers.

"That ain’t an answer." 

John tenses further and Arthur frowns, wondering if he seems angrier than he feels. 

"I'm just askin', John." 

"I… I dunno, felt nice," John says slowly, hoarse, "You not pushin' me away." 

“... What about Abigail, John?” Arthur asks quietly. 

John grimaces and rubs his palms down the tops of his thighs, glancing at the entrance to his tent. 

“We ain’t together like-”

“I didn’t ask if you was together, you oughta be faithful to that woman if-”

“He ain’t mine, Arthur,” John says roughly and there’s something piercingly honest about his voice, “Just- Forget it, I’m sorry, alright?”

“You need to grow up,” Arthur says roughly, “Take just a lil’ responsibility for the problems you-”

John stands up abruptly and moves past Arthur to the tent flaps. 

Arthur grabs his arm, not about to let John just walk away from the conversation. 

“Let _go_ ,” John says, sounding more choked than before as he jerks his arm uselessly in Arthur’s grip, “I just wanna close ‘em.”

“No one’s gonna come in here and save you from-”

“Arthur,” John whispers, “Please.”

Arthur stares at the younger for a second then makes a frustrated sound that rumbles his chest, letting go roughly. 

John stumbles a bit and holds still, swallowing hard, straightening up before he takes the last couple steps and ties closed the tent flaps. 

“I’m gonna be unfaithful to Abigail but-”

“No shit,” Arthur scoffs, “Not like you was ever loyal to-”

“Arthur,” John says desperately and Arthur’s never heard the younger so close to crying, not in recent years anyway, “Just listen to me for once.”

Arthur huffs and moves to sit on the foot of John’s bed. 

John hovers by the entrance to the tent then moves to stand in front of Arthur, shifting like he’s nervous, glancing at the tent flaps like he’s making sure they’re tied shut. 

“I like Abigail,” John says quietly and when Arthur gives him a tired look he hurries to explain, “As a person, I mean. I think she’s fine but we never… We never did anythin’.”

“So she’s lyin’?” Arthur asks, voice thick with disbelief. 

“Well… We both are,” John mumbles, looking at Arthur cautiously, “I need you to promise me somethin’.”

“... _Why?”_

“‘Cause I gotta tell you somethin’ so you’ll stop fuckin’ _hatin_ ’ me but you’re not gonna like it, so you gotta promise me you won’t talk ‘bout it,” John takes a deep breath and gestures emphatically at the entrance of the tent, “This can’t leave here, alright?”

“... Maybe.”

“Arthur.”

“Shit, you brat, fine. I promise,” Arthur grumbles and rubs at his face angrily, “The hell’s so important you’re goin’ through all this?”

“Jack… Ain’t mine. Abigail knows that, and Hosea too,” John says as slowly and carefully as he can, nausea building in his stomach at betraying his promise to Abigail. 

But if she can pick a confidant in Hosea, John can have one in Arthur. 

“No matter how many times you say that it ain’t gonna make the kid just,” Arthur gestures loosely in the air next to his head, “Disappear.”

“That’s not- Christ, Arthur,” John huffs a laugh and covers his face, “I’m bein’ _serious_. He ain’t mine, but me n’ Abigail both _know that.”_

“... Why would you-?” Arthur squints up at him, “Why’d you even _come back?_ If you’re just gonna keep on with this fib about-”

“I’m not lyin’, for fuck’s sake, Arthur. He couldn’t even _be_ mine,” John says, tiredly rubbing his eyes, “Just believe me for once in-”

“Why the hell would Abigail go on and on about you bein’ the father if you-”

“Because I said she could!” John finally breaks, almost yelling in the small space then immediately covering his mouth tightly, glancing anxiously at the tent flaps again like they’re gonna burst open. 

Arthur blinks through the fog in his head, frowning at the younger as John runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back and gripping it tightly. 

“I said she could, alright?” John whispers. 

“You’re gonna have to put this in real simple terms, Johnny, ‘cause I ain’t followin’.”

“Abigail… Got pregnant, right?” John waits for Arthur to nod as he smooths his hair down and crosses his arms tightly over his chest, “I wasn’t the one who got her that way, but the one who was… Ain’t that great so- So, she started freakin’ out and told Hosea and Hosea brought me into it and I agreed that we could… Lie, about it all.”

“... Who’s the father then?”

“I ain’t supposed to say.”

“John,” Arthur says roughly and stands up, forcing the younger to step back, “I’m gonna go and just ask Hosea if all this is some big joke for you to get away with slackin’ off and-”

He’s almost to the tent flaps when John grabs his arms and pulls him back. 

“No, no, c’mon, alright? I can prove it ain’t me, just don’t-” John inhales shakily and tugs harder and Arthur lets himself be pulled back and stood in front of the bed, “Abi’s already gon’ be mad at me, please just-”

Arthur stands still in front of John, watching the younger’s expression pinch unhappily. 

Then John’s hands slide down his arms to his wrists, starts guiding one of Arthur’s hands to his crotch. 

Arthur tenses up, holding frozen, not letting John move him any further. 

“Just trust me for a second,” John whispers hoarsely, head bowed, avoiding Arthur’s eyes, “It’ll make sense, I promise.”

Arthur stares at him and slowly lets John have control, watching as his hand is guided to cup between John’s thighs. 

John exhales shakily and squeezes Arthur’s forearm, digging his fingernails in. 

“... Oh,” Arthur croaks, feeling a very obvious lack of cock and balls against his palm, just a warm mound and a slit through the cotton fabrics. 

“Do you get it now?” John asks weakly, “Can this be over?”

Arthur swallows roughly and pulls his hand away, still looking at John’s crotch and then up to the younger’s face. 

John won’t meet his gaze but Arthur can clearly see the younger’s eyes watering. 

“I didn’t… Know,” Arthur says slowly. 

“No one does,” John whispers, “I mean… Hosea n’ Abi, but… No one else.”

“... What the hell?” Arthur whispers. 

“I- Don’t tell anyone- You can’t, you _promised_ ,” John says, squeezing his arms.

“I’m… I’m not gonna I’m just… Thinkin’,” Arthur says quietly, “... I didn’t know.”

“You already said that,” John mutters, holding Arthur’s arms tightly. 

“No I just mean… I didn’t…” Arthur looks down at John’s hands, the white-knuckled grip on him, “I’m sorry.”

John swallows loudly and very slowly leans forward until his forehead is resting on Arthur’s chest. 

“Can we be alright again?” John whispers shakily, “I’m real tired of this.”

“I- Why’d you leave?”

“I told her, beforehand,” John mutters, “But I shouldn’t have.”

“But… Why?" 

"... I dunno, really, I just got so frustrated," John whispers, "It was fine when she was yellin' at me 'cause she didn't mean it but then everyone was joinin' in and… I just couldn't stomach it."

Arthur stares down at the back of John's head, his mind spinning and spinning, trying to process. 

"Uh… So you're not…" Arthur hesitates, not sure what he really wants to ask or how to ask any of the million questions in his head. 

"I dunno what I am," John mumbles, "Been like this forever."

"But you're still Johnny… Right?" Arthur whispers, his hands flexing under John's grip, "You ain't… Pretendin' or nothin', right?" 

John huffs weakly and presses his face harder against Arthur's chest. 

"I'm John, yeah," John whispers, "Still John." 

"Can I have my hands?" 

John mumbles a quiet apology and lets go, stepping back and swiping roughly at his eyes. 

"... Hey," Arthur says quietly, waiting until John looks at him, "... John." 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm sorry," Arthur says slowly, his stomach twisting with guilt, "Seriously." 

"S'fine," John mumbles and rubs harder before dropping his hands with a huff, "'Least it's convincin'." 

"... When you said it felt nice," Arthur starts quietly, "Me lettin' you lean on me n'... What'd you mean?" 

"You just been kinda distant with me," John shrugs and crosses his arms, squeezing himself lightly, "Everyone has. I didn't mean to… Upset you or nothin'." 

"Hm." 

"I don't know, Arthur, _honest_. I just- I just _miss_ it," John admits hoarsely, "Touch, any kind. No one'll touch me anymore." 

“You sayin’ you’re _lonely?”_ Arthur asks, a bit incredulous. 

“Don’t- If you’re just gon’ mock me I ain’t gon’ talk about it,” John says after swallowing roughly, digging his fingers harder into his arms. 

Arthur watches the younger hold himself tighter, getting small and looking embarrassed and Arthur swallows his disbelief at just how upset John is. 

Then he remembers how hurt John had looked when he’d taken the younger’s hand off of him. 

“Alright,” Arthur says slowly, “I’m not gonna.”

“I’m just tired, Arthur,” John mutters, “I’m real tired.”

“You wanna go to sleep?” 

“... Yeah, I guess,” John rubs at his face, dropping his eyes to the ground between them, “I didn’t mean that kind of tired, though.”

Arthur presses his lips together and steps forward, tugging John against his chest, wrapping the younger up in his arms and holding John to himself tightly. 

John goes stiff against him for all of two seconds before he makes a weak sound and grabs at Arthur’s shirt. 

It’s the first time they’ve hugged in over a year and John’s trying his damnedest not to cry again.

He sniffs roughly and tucks his face into Arthur’s neck, looking down at his cot behind the older man. 

“Sorry,” Arthur murmurs again and John shakes his head only for the older man to sigh and rub up his back firmly, “I know, but I am… And Johnny?”

“Hm?”

“You’re not... You might feel lonely, but you ain’t alone, alright?” Arthur whispers and squeezes him for emphasis. 

John nods shakily and twists his fingers in Arthur’s shirt, just relishing in the comfort of being held for a moment. 

\--

He sits with Abigail in her tent as she nurses Jack, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. 

“Spit it out, John.”

“I told Arthur,” John whispers hoarsely. 

Looking up tentatively when Abigail doesn’t immediately berate him. 

He watches Abigail study him, then Jack, then sigh quietly, letting her head fall back. 

“I coulda seen that comin’,” Abigail says wryly, “I really coulda.”

“I didn’t tell him who just- I’m sorry- I just… I…”

“If anythin’s ‘bout to come outta your mouth that isn’t some version of ‘I love him’, save it.”

“Abi-”

“No-” Abigail cuts herself off and sighs again, looking back down at John sitting on the ground, “It’s fine. I didn’t figure on him bein’ so angry but… It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” John mumbles. 

“Can you grab me a rag,” Abigail says as she lifts Jack up, fixing her shirt with one hand, cradling her son with the other. 

John pushes to his feet and grabs a towel from the stack on the crate next to the bed, bringing it over and helping Abigail cover her shoulder. 

“You should just tell him.”

“I think I’ve told him too many things for right now, actually,” John says hoarsely, pulling away as Abigail starts to gently bounce Jack, patting his back. 

“Hey,” Abigail calls out softly, “You two? You’re gonna be fine, John.”

“Thanks,” John says quietly, then slips out of the tent.

\--

“You coulda just told me,” Arthur mumbles, sitting next to him by the dying fire. 

“What?”

“About…” Arthur swallows, gestures to his own lap, not meeting John’s eyes. 

“... Would you have believed me?” John asks hoarsely, “I’m sorry but I don’t think you would’ve.”

“... Yeah,” Arthur stares hard into the flames for a moment, “Yeah, maybe.”

“Sorry… If I weirded you out or somethin’,” John holds out his bottle of rum to Arthur and the older man takes it with a small smile, “I just needed you to… To stop hatin’ me.”

Arthur hums and sips and tilts his head to the side to crack his neck, then slings an arm around John’s shoulders. 

John tenses sharply, turning to look at the older man in surprise. 

Arthur glances at him briefly and presses his lips together, looking back at the fire. 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur says quietly. 

“I told you-”

“I _know_ ,” Arthur bites out, a bit harsher than he intends. 

John goes even stiffer under his arm and Arthur groans quietly, tugging John against his side and pressing his face into the younger’s hair.

“I mean it,” Arthur murmurs.

“... Thanks,” John whispers hoarsely, “But this is kinda odd.”

“You said you missed bein’ touched, Johnny,” Arthur’s nose brushes his ear and John’s breath hitches. 

“What’re you doin?” John asks shakily. 

“Touchin’ you… Missed you too,” Arthur murmurs right into his ear and squeezes him tighter, “Right here.”

“What?’ John whispers and shivers lightly, “... Arthur?”

“Told you, you ain’t alone,” Arthur’s fingertips dig into his shoulder, “I’m right here.”

John makes a shaky sound, then Arthur’s pushing the bottle against his stomach and John wraps trembling fingers around the neck of it.

“Liked you bein' all over me," Arthur whispers, "Felt nice to me too." 

"... You're not just bein' like this all the sudden 'cause-" John chokes at the thought and his chest aches, "Cause you _know_ , right?" 

"'Bout your bits?" Arthur huffs against his neck, scruff brushing the soft skin and John's arms prickle with goosebumps, "Nah." 

John swallows and lifts the bottle to his mouth, drinking deeply. 

Then leaning heavier against Arthur, letting the older man hold him.

"Hey." 

"Yeah?" John whispers. 

"Care 'bout you, Johnny, hope you know that." 

John exhales shakily and nods. 

Arthur's lips press against the side of his head near his temple as the older man squeezes him close. 

"Th-" John's throat catches and he weakly clears it, "Think we should turn in."

Arthur's hand drops from the bottle to John's upper thigh. 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah- Arthur, yeah, don't wanna be drunk for this." 

"Aw," Arthur coos then huffs a laugh and tucks his face into John's neck, kissing there, "Alright." 

The older man standing up, wobbling ever-so-slightly, then giving him a small wave and wandering off towards his tent. 

John feels shaky as he makes his way back to his tent, palm pressed to the side of his throat where he can still feel Arthur’s beard scratching him. 

\--

The older man looks sheepish in the morning, when he corners John and pulls him behind the chuck wagon. 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur murmurs, “‘Bout last night, didn’t mean to swing that quick in another direction.”

“What?” John whispers. 

“I mean I wasn’t tryna push you or anythin’, probably seemed real odd that I’d go from distant to… All over you,” Arthur clears his throat and his cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, the freckles and scars more prominent. 

“... Thought you were maybe just drunk n’ you- You realized,” John says hesitantly. 

“Realized?” 

“... That I uh-” John presses his lips together and ducks his head a bit, “Y’know… Have the kinda parts you like.”

“... No, actually,” Arthur whispers hoarsely, “I just like you. _John_. S’why I asked when you told me, if you… If you were still my Johnny.”

“... _Your_ Johnny?” 

Arthur sighs quietly and glances around for a moment then quirks his mouth to the side. 

“Most of the reasons I’ve been mad at you… I’ve been… I kept wishin’ I fit in to what I thought you had,'' Arthur stumbles through the explanation, trying to not admit outright that he was jealous, “Wanted to be you, with a woman and a kid, wanted what I thought you threw away… Wanted you.”

“Oh,” John chokes out, stepping back to settle his hands on the wagon and hold himself upright. 

“... Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta keep apologizin’, Arthur,” John lifts his head and looks up at the older man, “I didn’t know.”

“Mm, you weren’t supposed to,” Arthur murmurs, stepping a little closer, glancing around again to make sure they’re alone, “Didn’t wanna derail your life like that.”

“... Pretty strange way of lovin’ me.”

“ _John_.”

“What?” John snorts and lifts a hand up to rub at his mouth, “Too soon?”

“Bit, yeah, on one hand,” Arthur sucks on his teeth for a moment and steps even closer, settling his hands on the wooden lip of the wagon, caging John in, “On the other… Liked you for a couple years.”

“Just liked?” John asks breathily, staring at the older man, his fingertips hovering in front of his mouth. 

“... No, not just _liked_.”

“Christ, Arthur,” John whispers then grabs the front of the older man’s shirt, pulling Arthur to himself, pressing their lips together, a bit rough, a bit over-eager. 

Arthur hums softly and brings his hand up, hooking a finger behind the bandana around John’s neck and moving his other to settle on John’s hip. 

He slows John down, pulls back lightly when the younger pushes for more, smiles when John makes a whiny noise of frustration. 

“Don’t gotta rush,” Arthur whispers then pulls back, dropping his head down kissing John’s throat. 

“God,” John breathes out roughly, “Almost let you just- Just do whatever, last night. Wanted you so bad, was tryna fall asleep but all I could think about was this.”

Arthur chuckles under his breath and John inhales sharply when the older man bites his neck, sucks. 

John lifts his hand to his mouth quickly to muffle a needy whimper. 

Arthur’s breath over the spit-slick, purpling skin makes him shiver and clutch at the older man’s arm, keeping himself muffled as he squirms. 

“There,” Arthur murmurs, “Now you know.”

“What?”

“That you’re mine,” Arthur kisses the mark softly then tugs John’s bandana back up into place over it, “My Johnny.”

John exhales shakily and drops his head forward onto Arthur’s shoulder, whining under his breath. 

Arthur’s hands settle on his hips, squeeze lightly, and John wants nothing more than Arthur to fuck him out here in broad daylight, middle of camp. 

“Told Abigail that I told you,” John whispers.

“That’s good… How’d she take it?”

“... Like it was always gonna happen,” John huffs, “She’s alright with you knowin’.”

“... Do you think she’d care if you told me who?” Arthur whispers near his ear and John nods. 

“You gotta ask her. I can’t do that… I can’t tell.”

“Alright,” Arthur sighs and presses another tender kiss to John’s neck, just under his ear. 

“Arthur-” John says urgently, “Really workin’ me up here.”

“Oh?” Arthur teases, “I am?”

John shoves at the older man lightly and Arthur just laughs, pulling him away from the wagon and nudging him. 

“Go on, finish your chores, wanna take you somewhere.”

“What? Where?”

“Oh… Fishin’,” Arthur says with a mischievous tone, “Or somethin’.”

John swallows thickly and nods, leaning back in to peck Arthur’s lips then slipping around the wagon. 

Arthur just stands there for a moment, rubbing his mouth, chest a little tight, his ribcage not quite containing his happiness. 

\--

“Just grab a change of clothes,” Arthur stands at the entrance of his tent, “Lake’s not that far from here.”

“Lake?” 

“We-” Arthur clears his throat and ducks into John’s tent, leaning down to whisper, “We ain’t actually goin’ fishin’... I- If I wasn’t clear ‘bout that we-”

“Arthur,” John huffs, and swats at the older man with the shirt he’s packing, “I ain’t that dumb.”

“... But you wanna, right?” Arthur whispers, grazing his fingertips over the back of John’s neck between his bandana and shirt-collar. 

John swallows, suppressing a shiver before he nods. 

\--

The conversation is kept light during the couple hour ride. 

Gentle joking, teasing, all familiar and very long-missed. 

John finds himself laughing from his belly, struggling to stay upright on his horse and grinning widely at Arthur and for a while it feels like nothing’s changed. 

The air gets a little cooler, the sun setting behind them, and soon they break off onto a smaller, more overgrown trail. 

Trickling water gets louder until it’s a moderate rushing and John’s jaw drops in surprise at the grove that’s revealed through a passage of thick mossy oaks. 

“How you always findin’ these places?” John asks suspiciously, craning his neck to look around the older man. 

“Lookin’.”

John rolls his eyes and follows Arthur to a couple of sturdy trees, climbing down and giving Old Boy a good amount of slack to graze. 

Glancing over to see Arthur running his hand down Bo’s neck, murmuring sweetly to the horse. 

“Care for a swim?” Arthur asks over his shoulder, nodding at the little rock pool, a short waterfall obscuring what looks like a cave. 

“... Uh- I mean it’s-”

“There’s nothin’ in the water, John. I’ve come here a couple times.”

“Yeah but it’s still-” John looks away from the water as Arthur comes closer, “It’s still water.”

“It ain’t deep,” Arthur murmurs and his hands settle on John’s waist, “I won’t let you drown.”

“... How could I drown if it ain’t deep?” John whispers, tipping his chin up, bratty to hide his anxiety. 

“Hey,” Arthur says gently, “I’m serious, John, you’ll be fine.”

“... Do we have to go _in?”_

“... I guess not.”

“I mean we could go behind the waterfall, right? That’s… Romantic.”

Arthur snorts softly and leans in to kiss his lifted chin, John’s chest hitching as the older man starts trailing his mouth down the front of John’s throat. 

“Yeah?” Arthur murmurs against his skin, his hands slipping around John’s back, “You want romantic?”

“I mean I’d’ve been fine with you fuckin’ me against that wagon this mornin’ but-” John says wryly, “Romance sounds kinda nice.”

“Jesus, Johnny,” Arthur whispers, hoarse and low, his fingers pulling the back of John’s suspenders loose, “You serious?”

“Hm?”

“You woulda let me?”

“I mean… _No_ , but I wanted to.”

Arthur groans and tugs his shirts, untucking them, bringing his hands around to unhook the front of the suspenders. 

Kissing John sweetly then nodding towards the cave. 

“Why don’t we just set up for the night in there, hm?”

\--

It’s not as loud as he expected, sitting on Arthur’s bedroll as the older man gets a lantern lit and pulls a tin out of his satchel. 

John watches the older man blink at the tin for a second then look sideways at John. 

“... You know I’ve thought about this for a while and I was always gonna give you the option of choosing _how_ ,” Arthur says quietly, “I’m still gonna give you that.”

“... Oh,” John whispers, flustering just a bit, “I guess just- Just the easiest way tonight.”

“If you wanna do anythin’, you just gotta ask, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Arthur sets the tin to the side, nearby, just in case and John leans back on his elbows, looking up at the older man softly. 

“... What’s that look for?” Arthur grumbles as he’s pulling his belts off, stowing his guns just as close by. 

“Hm?”

“Lookin’ at me like I- Like-” The older man groans and crawls over John, holding himself up to squint down at the younger. 

“Dunno what you mean,” John smiles a little wider and keeps studying the older man softly, tilting his head like he’s confused, “Could you explain?”

“Brat,” Arthur bites out then catches John’s mouth in a deep kiss. 

John keeps smiling into it even as he parts his legs and lets Arthur pin him to the bedroll. 

“Love you too,” John whispers when Arthur pulls back and the older man tenses and for just a second John thinks he’s read this all wrong. 

“Shit,” Arthur mutters, “Really?”

“... Yeah.”

“... Shit,” Arthur whispers and hides his face in John’s neck, his arms worming under John’s waist and shoulders, holding the younger tightly. 

“... You cryin’?”

“No,” Arthur says darkly but his voice is scratchy enough that he’s either crying or trying hard not to. 

“Aw,” John coos, “That’s all it took?”

“John.”

“Big scary man, and his weakness is-”

“You,” Arthur says roughly, “It’s _you_. Now knock it off.”

“... Alright,” John whispers, blinking at the top of the cave, the water on the walls reflecting the lantern light, “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“God, John,” Arthur swallows roughly and his fingertips dig into John’s back, “You leavin’ _hurt_ me.” 

“... You not believin’ what I was sayin’ hurt _me_ ,” John frowns lightly and brings a hand up to the back of Arthur’s hair, “I ain’t a liar.”

“... I know,” Arthur sighs and pushes himself up and his eyes _are_ watering, “I was mad n’... Didn’t wanna listen.”

“Well yeah,” John huffs, turning his head away slightly, not brave enough to look into Arthur’s shining blue eyes, “I mean it took me… Honestly considered just droppin’ my pants but I didn’t know how you’d react to that.”

Arthur snorts and shifts his weight to one hand so he can cup the side of John’s face, guiding the younger’s eyes back to his. 

“You done this before?” 

“... Parts,” John says cautiously. 

Arthur rolls his eyes then softens, his thumb brushing John’s cheekbone. 

“The part where you got someone inside you?”

“... Yeah,” John whispers, “But I don’t wanna think ‘bout that.”

Arthur frowns down at him and brushes over John’s cheek again. 

“Long time ago?” Arthur manages to ask even though the thought makes him a bit nauseous. 

“... Yeah.”

“Sorry, Johnny,” Arthur whispers and moves his thumb to kiss the same place he’s been stroking, then moving up to John’s forehead, kissing the furrow between John’s brows until it smooths, “‘M sorry.”

“Really don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.”

“I know, you don’t gotta,” Arthur says hoarsely, “You know you can stop me though, right? Anytime, anythin’ that makes you uncomfortable, no matter what.”

“I just wanna feel good, I guess,” John swallows and moves both hands to Arthur’s shoulders, “But just this feels good, n’ you markin’ me up, teasin’ me.”

“Yeah?” Arthur whispers and lifts up, moving his hand down to the back of John’s neck, deftly untying the knot, tugging the bandana off. 

“Stared at it in the mirror for a while,” John admits as his face flushes, “Like it.”

“You want some more?”

“Yeah but-” John sits up a bit until Arthur understands and moves back, kneeling between John’s legs, “Everywhere.”

Arthur makes a weak sound as he watches John unbuttoning his shirt, the younger shying as he pulls apart the sides and works on the undershirt. 

The older man keeps his hands on John’s thighs, looking up to the younger’s face as John wiggles out of the fabric, tossing it all to the side and flopping back down. 

Glancing down at his chest and pressing his lips together, looking up at Arthur, his fingers tapping over the bedroll by his hips. 

“You sure?” Arthur whispers, keeping his eyes on John’s. 

John nods and starts chewing lightly at the inside of his lower lip, biting harder when he feels a tingling creeping over his skin, his nipples hardening. 

Arthur’s hands slowly slide up his thighs and stop at John’s waist, the older man leaning down, pressing his lips to the hollow between John’s collarbones. 

John breathes in sharply and tips his head back, turning his face to give Arthur more room, closing his eyes and shifting his legs up, his knees squeezing Arthur’s hips. 

And the older man moves a little lower on his chest, biting lightly, sucking softly. 

The younger can’t stop himself from squirming, closing his eyes tightly as his whole body seems to pulse in time with his heartbeat, his toes curling. 

Arthur’s mouth moves down again, hesitating then his lips press in a gentle kiss to the top of one side of John’s chest. 

Pausing, waiting for John, who can only beg softly, his hips rocking up against Arthur’s. 

Then Arthur’s teeth dig in and bite, more firmly, sucking a little harder, making a darker mark and John groans lowly. 

There’s a thrumming, twisting feeling in his gut as he gets warmer, turning his head and watching the waterfall, bathed in gold by the lantern, barely any light left outside the cave. 

It feels otherworldly, this special little place Arthur’s brought him to, the curtain of water between them and the rest of their worries. 

He reaches between them and tugs at Arthur’s shirt, pulling free button after button. 

Arthur lifts up and looks down at him, the marks he’s left, finally letting himself just _look_ at John. 

Admittedly he _had_ imagined John before, even just a few nights ago when John was drunk and pawing at him he’d imagined letting John coax him into the younger’s tent, maybe falling into bed together. 

And John had been different, not like the soft, scar-mottled, lightly fuzzy belly he runs his fingertips over. 

Not like the swell of John’s chest, where he’d imagined it flat and bony. 

But John’s ribs are still more prominent than his own, hipbones sharp above his waistband, hair dark, eyes curious. 

And despite any of the differences between his imagination and the reality below him, John’s still _John_.

Johnny, _his_ Johnny. 

“Off,” John mutters impatiently, shoving at the older man’s shirt, “C’mon.”

Definitely still his Johnny. 

Arthur rolls his eyes and sits back on his heels, pulling off the button-down then moving to undo his trousers. 

John quirks a brow like he’s surprised that worked and props himself up on his elbows, watching. 

His socked toes gently nudging Arthur’s thighs, not insistent, more absent-minded, maybe a little anxious. 

“Still alright?” Arthur asks quietly, pushing his pants down to his knees and wriggling out of them. 

“Better than alright,” John whispers. 

“Oh, that good, huh?” 

John studies him for a moment then smiles, more genuine and shy then he usually smiles. 

For the first couple years he knew John it was more likely the kid would bare his teeth at Arthur than smile at him, that only started more recently. 

And the older John’s gotten, with everything that’s happened over the last year and a bit, those already rare smiles were farther and fewer between. 

“I missed you,” Arthur says and the words come from his soul, deep and hoarse and yanked out against his better senses. 

John blinks at him and his smile falters a bit, guilt creeping into his expression and Arthur lurches forward, grabbing John’s hands, covering them with his own and squeezing. 

“I’m not sayin’ it like that, I just-” Arthur rasps, “Jesus, Johnny, you know I don’t like this sappy shit- I can’t just say-”

“You don’t gotta,” John whispers, turning his hands under Arthur’s to squeeze back, “S’fine, I promise.”

“I want to,” Arthur leans their foreheads together, rubbing his thumbs over John’s, “Really.”

“Just… I can wait, y’know?” 

Arthur closes his eyes and kisses John lightly, softly, guiding John’s arms around his neck then moving his between their hips and slowly undoing the laces on John’s trousers. 

John’s lips part with a small inhale and Arthur’s fingers still. 

“S’fine- S’fine-” John whispers between kissing him soundly, “Promise, keep goin’.”

So Arthur finishes undoing the laces and tugs the panels open. 

Arthur hesitates again for a moment then slowly slides his hand to cup John’s cunt through the fabric just like the other night. 

John gasps against his mouth then laughs quietly. 

“Feels a lot better this time,” John jokes and closes his eyes with a soft exhale, “Christ.”

Arthur swallows roughly and presses his fingers into John’s slit and John hums, spreading his legs readily, brushing his lips against Arthur’s then looking down. 

And Arthur looks down as well, as he gently rubs through the fabric and John’s hips tilt, rocking, seeking more. 

He rubs a little firmer, back over the warmth of John’s hole then up to the younger’s nub. 

John struggles to keep his eyes open, watching, breathing slowly through parted lips, clenching and feeling himself getting slick. 

“Arthur,” John bites down on a whimper as he grinds himself onto the older man’s hand, “Ah, shit.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, Arthur,” John says shakily, squirming his hips lightly, “Can I take ‘em off?”

“Oh-” Arthur says hoarsely, pulling his hand back and helping John out of his pants, “Sorry, was tryna go slow.”

“I’ll tell you if it’s too fast, alright?” John moves to unbutton his drawers then lays back onto the bedroll, looking up at Arthur, gesturing at his drawers, “Yeah?”

Arthur makes a weak sound of agreement and tucks his fingers under the waistband, John lifting his hips to help as Arthur tugs the fabric down and off. 

And John’s bare in front of him and Arthur’s chest feels tight again. 

John looks down at himself and breathes out slowly before letting his legs part, butterflying out until his knees hit the bedroll. 

Arthur has the immediate urge to add a few more marks to John’s skin, to get his lower half to match his chest and neck, so he looks up at John as he lowers himself between the younger’s thighs, hooking his arms under John’s thighs and around until his hands are on John’s belly. 

He kisses the younger man’s hipbone then closes his lips over the crest of it and sucks, rubbing his hands up and down John’s sides as he does. 

John makes a low, thready noise and his head falls back, back arching just a bit. 

Then Arthur’s mouth moves to his inner thigh and John doesn’t bother trying to muffle his soft panting and whimpering, clenching around nothing, hips rocking up. 

Arthur leaves twin marks on the softest spots of his inner thighs then looks up at John again. 

His mouth just inches from the younger’s cunt. 

“John?”

“Please, please,” John whispers, “Arthur, please.”

Arthur huffs a soft laugh and encourages John to spread his legs a little further, then brings his thumbs down and opens John’s slit. 

Shuffling up and pressing his lips to John’s nub. 

Letting the younger adjust for a second to the feeling then parting his lips and using his tongue to flick up the underside of John’s nub. 

The younger squirms sharply and groans under his breath so Arthur repeats the movement. 

John’s heels dig into his ribs and the younger man grinds up against Arthur’s mouth, lifting up off the bedroll, so Arthur obliges, wrapping his mouth around the nub and sucking. 

“Oh, fuck,” John whispers and one of his hands comes down to tangle in Arthur’s honey-brown hair, “Art-”

Arthur hums around the younger’s nub and John whimpers, twitching and his hips shifting. 

The older man keeps flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves until John’s thighs are starting to try and close around his neck. 

He pulls off and laughs breathily, prying John’s thighs open and gently laying them down. 

“You close?”

“Yeah,” John says weakly. 

“Want my fingers in you?”

“Shit- Yeah,” John squirms until he can sit up a bit, look down at Arthur. 

Petting through the older man’s hair. 

Arthur lifts up enough he can get one hand under himself and slides his middle finger into John, wrapping his lips around the younger’s nub again and feeling John clench around his finger. 

John swallows roughly and whines under his breath, his head falling back, all of Arthur’s marks on display as the older man adds another finger, gently playing in the slick leaking outta John. 

“Fuck,” John whispers and clenches harder around the older man’s fingers, “Please, Arthur.”

Arthur just hums again and John shudders, shoulders lifting a bit as Arthur strokes along his walls and sucks and coaxes an orgasm out of him, John shivering through it, cunt pulsing and stomach flexing. 

Arthur’s mouth moves down and licks over his hole, looking up at him when John looks down. 

“God,” Is all John can whisper, almost too quiet to be heard over the water and Arthur’s tongue presses into him, drags up over his nub before the older man sits up. 

John shifts up onto his knees and presses into the older man, kissing Arthur slow and dirty, tasting himself on the older man’s tongue. 

“Shit,” John breathes out when he pulls back. 

Arthur huffs softly and brings his clean hand up to cup the side of John’s face. 

“You good?” 

“Just- Never done that before,” John mumbles, a bit shy, his cheeks are already pink, his lips shiny and a little reddened. 

Arthur just takes a moment to look at John like this, genuinely happy, quite literally _pleased_. 

“However far you wanna go,” Arthur murmurs and brushes their lips together, “S’up to you.”

“Want you inside me… Seriously,” John leans their foreheads together then turns his head as he laughs, “Like three years ago, Art, c’mon.”

Arthur shifts until he’s sitting cross-legged and guides John into his lap. 

“Oh, take off your drawers,” John protests, almost whining, “C’mon, please, that ain’t fair.”

The older man presses his lips together to stop himself from smiling as he nudges John up and straightens his legs, shimmying the fabric down until he can kick the offending garment away. 

“Better?” Arthur asks wryly and John settles himself in the older man’s lap as an answer, his slit pressing to the base of Arthur’s cock. 

“Mm,” John hums and looks down, “Can I touch?”

“Yeah, course.”

“You know _you_ can say no too, right?”

“ _Course_ ,” Arthur stresses hoarsely, “But I don’t wanna.”

John’s smile turns a little sincere and shy again and Arthur’s chest gets tight again and he moves his hands to grip John’s waist. 

“Hey,” Arthur whispers, swallowing roughly and waiting for John to meet his eyes, “I love you.”

John stares at him for a second then cracks with a cheeky grin, wrapping his fist around Arthur’s cock and pecking the older man’s lips. 

“I know.”

“... Brat,” Arthur huffs, “You are a _brat_ , I can’t believe you.”

“But you _love_ me.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and drops his head onto John’s shoulder as the younger’s hand strokes him. 

Slick, and Arthur’s brain pieces together what John had been doing while he’d been too busy dreamily gazing into the younger’s eyes, confessing. 

Now John’s rubbing him off with his own slick and Arthur muffles a grunt against John’s skin, cock jerking in John’s grip. 

“Want you inside, Arthur, seriously,” John whispers against his ear and presses his cheek to Arthur’s temple, “Can I?”

“Yeah.”

John lifts up just a bit and guides Arthur’s cock until the head is pressed to his hole, shifting his weight forward, grabbing at the older man’s shoulder with his free hand as he lets gravity pull him down. 

Cursing quietly at the tight fit until Arthur bottoms out and John grips the older man’s nape with a groan. 

“Too much?” Arthur asks only for John to scoff quietly, “Hey, serious-”

“I know, it’s _not_. Just lemme go slow.”

“‘Course,” Arthur whispers and leaves a trail of soft kisses up John’s shoulder until he’s just under the younger’s ear. 

John can’t stop himself from shivering, toes curling with Arthur’s beard scratching lightly against his throat. 

He closes his eyes tightly and threads his fingers into Arthur’s hair, whispering a moan when Arthur shifts them and he spreads his legs further, sinking down just that little bit more. 

“Love you too,” John says, thin and shaky, keeping his eyes closed tight as he lifts himself up a couple of inches before dropping back down, bottoming out again, “Fuck.”

Arthur murmurs soft reassurances into John’s ear, rubbing one hand up and down the younger’s spine as John starts lifting and lowering himself in a slightly off-pace rhythm, clenching hard around Arthur’s cock, slick dripping from him. 

Until Arthur can’t speak anymore, just panting softly against John’s throat, groaning when John seats him deep then grinds forward. 

And John’s making small, needy noises over his head, petting Arthur’s hair, fucking himself on the older man’s cock. 

John’s free hand slips between them and he catches his nub between two fingertips, rubbing roughly, his legs giving out under him as he shudders. 

“Arthur-” John whispers, curling in on himself and pressing his face into Arthur’s shoulder, “Art, please.”

Clenching around Arthur, his hips twitching, whining softly and rocking forward as he keeps rubbing himself, breathing unsteadily and whining with each clench. 

Arthur swallows hard and his brows furrow as he feels John coming around him, his hands sliding down and gripping John’s thighs, ass, lower back, holding himself steady for the younger as John pulses and leaks around him. 

“Shh,” Arthur soothes when John whimpers, gently guiding John’s hips into lifting and dropping again, “Hey… Close.”

“Pull out,” John says hoarsely, then hides his face in Arthur’s throat, “Sorry.”

“Nah,” Arthur manages then grits his teeth as he shifts, “S’fine.”

But John just whispers another apology as Arthur lifts him up enough that he slips out. 

And John’s hand moves from rubbing himself to fisting around Arthur’s cock and stroking the older man. 

Arthur groans softly and kisses John’s temple before groaning louder, shakier as John lightly sucks a mark into the crook of his neck, low enough it’ll be hidden by his shirt. 

“Shit,” Arthur whispers, “Johnny, gonna-”

“You’re mine too, yeah?” John whispers, pressing his lips to the purpling mark. 

“Yeah-” Arthur gasps as his gut clenches and he starts to come, “Yours.”

John keeps stroking him through it as his cock spills over the younger’s knuckles and Arthur wraps his arms around John tightly. 

“Yours, yours, yours, _ah_ -” Arthur muffles himself against John’s shoulder, his hips flexing under the younger as John milks him for every drop, teasing his thumb over the head of Arthur’s cock with every tight stroke. 

**Author's Note:**

> [horny twitter](https://www.twitter.com/swampslip)   
> 


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